Camping In The Summer Of 1984

The hand on the back of my neck had an iron grip, and judging by the tone of the man it belonged to, he was pissed as he practically carried me across the bath house at Brown Tract Pond to the row of toilet stalls.

After being dragged to the last stall, which was a handicapped stall with plenty of room, I got spun around and practically thrown against the side wall while the man with the iron grip locked the door behind us.

I was going to die, or at best get the shit kicked out of me by the irate man, who at about 6'3" and 210 pounds was at least a half foot taller and outweighed me by about 75 pounds. That much I was sure of, because not only was he bigger than me, he was mostly muscle while I was skin and bones.

In the few seconds that had passed, I tried to figure out which of the two alternatives would be worse. Getting my ass kicked and coming back to our campsite all bloodied and bruised might be worse because my mother would get all hysterical and my old man would be out for blood, bent on seeking revenge for what had been done to his flesh and blood.

"Got nose problems, kid?" the man snarled as his hand kept me pinned to the side wall, not cutting off my breathing but making me very uncomfortable.

"Sorry," I gasped.

"Little kids don't belong in here with men," the guy explained as I watched his Adam's Apple bob under the five o'clock shadow that covered his neck. "How about we go to your campsite and you can tell your Mommy how you got caught looking at guys taking showers?"

"No!" I choked out, and at that moment I was hoping he would snap my neck instead.

"How old are you? 14?"

"No," I wheezed. "18 - last May - just graduated from high school."

I held up my hand to show him the ring that proved I was indeed a proud graduate, class of 1984 at Richfield High, and although he wasn't impressed he seemed less angry.

"You here with friends?"

"No - I'm with my folks," I replied, and then in an effort to compound my stupidity, not only admitted that but even told him our site number when he asked.

"84? Good site. That's down near the end, isn't it?" he asked as the pressure on my collarbone eased just slightly. "I'm up on the hill at 55. All quiet and deserted up there - at least until the weekend."

"Your folks know?" he asked. "About you being a cocksucker?"

"No?" I said, completing the triple crown of dumb answers, proving that honesty is not always the best policy, and then lamely suggested he was mistaken. "I'm not a - you know."

"Bullshit," he snarled as I got reminded of how hard he could push me against the wall. "I can pick one out a mile away. I spotted you right away, with you standing there staring at my cock with that little tent in your trunks?"

I was going to tell him that people used those showers just to wash the pond off of them, and you didn't have to under the cold spray naked but decided against it. Silently I cursed myself for knowing way too much about the bathhouse of the campground my family had gone to every year since I was little.

None of it was my fault. I didn't want to come up here this year. I had wanted to stay at home so my new friend and I could get better acquainted. And you weren't supposed to walk around the bath house naked either, so in effect I was the victim here. Right.

"What's your name?"

"Derek."

"Well Derek," he sneered. "Did you like what you saw? How come you aren't staring at it now?"

"I'm sorry."

"No you aren't, Derek from site 84," he said as he placed me unceremoniously on the toilet seat, which left me staring right at eye level at the biggest limp cock I had ever seen.

It was what had gotten me into this predicament, and now as it hung there just in front of me I was told what was going to happen next.

"Suck it," the man snapped as she inched up closer to me. "And don't tell me that you never did it before either. I don't like my intelligence insulted."

I wasn't going to deny it because I had a couple of times, but the schoolmates I had given head to weren't built anything like this man, and I guess that was part of what had attracted me to him like a magnet. Since he seemed to be able to read me like a book, while my hand was shaking as it reached out to take the uncut hose, it did so nonetheless.

Heavy, I thought as I lifted the massive organ up, using my other hand to help in raising it and skinning it a little back while I leaned forward and let my lips slide down the mushroom-shaped glans.

Outside the smelly stall, the sounds of other guys laughing and kidding around as they rinsed off made me shiver. Could they see the two pairs of legs in here? The door was kinda low, so hopefully not. If my old man ever saw four feet in a stall, that would probably bring out the cop in him because he's not exactly tolerant in that regard.

So I sucked this stranger's cock, forcing my lips down the thick, vein riddled shaft as far as I could. It wasn't the first time I had been involved in oral sex in a bathroom. The other time though, I was the recipient when this nice old guy coaxed me in a toilet at the park with the promise of something I had never experienced before.

This time I was the one giving head, and as my lips struggled to get more than halfway about what to my mind had to be at least 9" of stiff cock, I started to get into it, my eyes grazing the man's pubic hair as the tip of his huge manhood touched my throat.

"That's it Derek," the man whispered as the ran his hands through my dirty blonde hair. "Lick my nuts."

The man pulled his cock out of my mouth and lifted it upwards, exposing a pair of balls that were even more over-sized than his cock. I had to lick them because there was no way I would have be able to fit even the smaller nut in my mouth, but I lapped away at the furry brown orbs, my tongue going right to the underside of his member, which looked like the roots of a tree from my angle.

When he had enough, the guy brought the head of his cock to my mouth once more, and now he was really getting into it. I looked up as he cradled my head in his hands while thrusting himself back and forth and fucking my face.

I felt the surge roar through his cock a second before I heard his groan and felt him spurting into my mouth and down my throat, and I struggled to keep swallowing as he kept cumming and cumming until he finally began to go limp in my mouth.

"Good boy," the man said as he pulled his flaccid cock out of my mouth and slapped me on the cheek with it a couple of times, and when he peeked over the door to see if the room was deserted I thought it was over, but it wasn't.

"Drop them," he said as he rearranged us in the stall so I was the one standing and he was sitting down, and after I figured out what he was asking I lowered my trunks.

"I can see why you left the trunks on out there," he snickered when he saw my cock spring upwards when the trunks went past.

The words stung, because while I wasn't as big as he was - certainly not nearly as thick - my pale organ was the standard 6" and had gotten no complaints from the few guys who I had fooled around with up to then.

"Turn around," The man whispered, and after I did he spread my ass cheeks apart and poked a finger roughly into my anus.

For a minute I had thought he was going to suck my dick, which would have made all the humiliation worth it, but all he was doing was sticking a big finger as deep into my bowels as he could.

"You like that, don't you?" he snarled as he stood up and hovered over me, turning into Joe Friday or some other TV cop he was trying to portray. "Grab the wall. Do it."

"Shut up, I want to see your ass," he hissed after I gasped when a second finger joined the first, and he leaned against me he asked me if I liked it up the ass.

"No - never," I whimpered as the force of his hand nearly lifted me off my feet, and that was nearly true, since my friend back home had put the tip of his in me last week before I had chickened out.

"Tonight," he said, his hot breath in my ear as he told me that was going to change. "Site 55."

"Please," I pleaded, which was a mistake because now that second finger was in me all the way, and he was twisting them as he jammed them in and out.

"You'll be saying that later too," he informed me. "Site 55. You know you want it. Don't make me come looking for you."

As he spoke, his other hand reached around me and grabbed my cock while my fingers clawed at the wall. His beefy hand nearly made all 6" disappear for the 20 seconds or so he had me in his fist.

Three or four savage yanks was all it took, and thankfully the place was empty because there was no way I could keep quiet as my cock erupted, spurting ropes of cum all over the door. My knees turned to jelly, and I guess that the fingers in my ass were all that held me up as my orgasm made my head spin.

"Site 55," the man repeated as he peeked outside before opening the door. "Do not make me come get you, because I will. Maybe tell your folks about how how like to look at naked men down here. Think they would like to hear that?"

"And clean up your mess," he added before leaving me alone in the stall.

As I wiped my semen off the wall I wondered what I was going to do. I couldn't imagine this guy coming down to our campsite and dragging me out, because my old man would probably shoot first and ask questions later, but what if he actually did come down and tell my folks some news about their son that they didn't know, as least not know for sure.

I slithered out of the bathhouse and went back into the swimming area, cooling off and letting the water soothe my aching orifice before I made the trek back to our campsite.

"What did you do to yourself," my Mom asked when I got back, and when I asked her what she meant she pointed to my upper chest, where apparently I had picked up a bruise from being manhandled by the guy.

"Dunno," I mumbled, to which my father reminded my mother what a klutz I was.

Dinner, which was always seemed to be one of three things when we camped; chicken, burgers or steak, turned out to be the latter this time, and as we ate I imagined myself telling my parents that I was going to go visit another campsite after they went to bed.

"Really? Did you make a new friend?" I imagined my Mom saying, probably hoping it was a girl my age and in this fictional conversation I had myself saying yes.

"Yeah! I was in the bathhouse rinsing off like I do a whole lot of times everyday we're up here, and there was the guy about Dad's age next to me. He was a big strong looking guy with a hairy body and a huge cock, and after he caught me looking at him he pulled me into a toilet stall and made me suck him off."

"You don't say?" I had my Dad saying, which made this goofy scenario even more ludicrous.

"Yeah, and then he stuck a couple fingers up my ass and jerked me off, almost yanking my cock off of my body, and he told me that I had to go to his campsite tonight so he could fuck me in the ass."

"Well, be sure and wear a jacket because it gets damp and chilly sometimes at night," fictional Mom said.

"You say something, Derek?"

"Huh?" I said, my father said from across the table, stirring me from my daydreaming. "Oh, I said this steak is really good."

"It should be at the price," Mom said, and the old man agreed as I looked down the road in the general direction of site 55, which was out of sight but definitely not out of mind.

***

We always built a big campfire every evening, and after sitting in front of it after it got dark we would go to our separate quarters, me in my little tent and Mom and Dad in the pop-up. Unless it got nasty out, I liked to sleep out by myself and Mom and Dad didn't mind.

I know they didn't because not only did it give us all privacy, it allowed us to do what we did best when the mood struck us. For me that meant beating off, and as for them, well, when that trailer's rocking... you know the rest. They usually did it once each trip, as quietly as they could, while I was good for at least one wank a night.

It was still about an hour away from total darkness, but in the woods it gets dark fast, and since this campground was a primitive one with no electricity at all, dark is really - really dark. As I wondered what I was going to do, a voice rang out from the road behind us.

"Hello? Is that you Ed? Ed Ryan?"

"Hey Dick!" my father responded after turning around, and as he got up and walked back toward the road to see our visitor I cringed.

Of all the campgrounds in the state, what were the chances that we would run into someone we knew? Actually, since my old man seemed to know half the world it seemed to happen a lot, but why now, and why this man?

"Honey, this is Dick York," my father was saying he escorted the man over to meet my mother, and then I had to stand up and get introduced, formally this time.

"Derek, this is Captain York," Dad said, and I cracked a hello while my bathhouse buddy tried to pulverize my hand with a handshake. "Derek's thinking about becoming of us too some day."

"Hi son," Captain York said. "Saw you down at the swimming area today, didn't I?"

"Uh yeah."

"Oh Derek, he's always down there swimming," Mom said. "He's like a fish."

"Well, not much else to do down there, is there?" Captain York said to me as he gave me a look.

The guy and my father were both cops, which explained Captain York's manner in the toilet stall, and while they worked in different areas of the state, they still knew each other from conferences and stuff. Great.

The cops and my Mom had a beer while I wandered down toward the pond behind our campsite. As I sat on a rock and looked at the sun setting, I thought back to the man, who now had a name.

Captain York, or Dick, and I snickered at that. You know my Dad, but he doesn't know you, that's for sure. I knew him a whole lot better. I had sucked his cock and had his fingers up my ass, and I had relished the feeling of his muscular hairy body against me while he jacked me off. I knew him alright and he knew me.

After a time I rejoined my folks, and Captain York was just getting ready to leave. They were saying their pleasantries and I got the pleasure of getting my hand crushed again.

"Some night you should come back and visit again," my mother was telling Captain York. "Have dinner with us some night. We're up here all week."

"So am I," Captain York said. "I'd love that. And you could come join me up at my site. I'm at number 55, and if the fishing is as good up here as it usually is, I'd love to cook up some trout for us."

"That sounds great, doesn't it dear - Derek? How about you?" my father exclaimed.

"Uh yeah."

"Great!" Captain York said. "I'll get back to you later in the week then. And I'll probably see you down at the swimming area, right Derek?"

"Yes sir," I said, and then he was gone.

"Such a nice man," my Mom was saying as Captain York departed.

"Yes, I saw the way you were looking at him too," my old man replied.

"Well, he is quite a handsome man, and all those muscles too," Mom added. "Are you jealous of me looking at him?"

"Nope," Dad said.

"Not even a little?" Mom teased.

"Not a bit. He's gay."

"What?" Mom said. "He couldn't be!"

"Sorry to disappoint you, but that's what I've heard," Dad said as they hugged and wrestled around a little. "Guess you're stuck with me."

"Still can't believe it," Mom said. "He's so manly and handsome. He looks like Rock Hudson a bit, doesn't he?"

***

After the sun set and the fire died, Mom declared it was time to turn in, saying as she always did, that she was drawing dampness. Actually, maybe Mom was horny after looking at the muscles on my Dad's colleague and wanted to get the old man in the camper so he could get her off.

Pretty weird when your mother has the same taste in men that you do, I thought while I pretended to get ready to get into my tent, but for the moment I had other things on my mind, most notably the prospect of walking down to Captain York's tent and submitting to something that was totally new to me.

I won't say that I never seriously considered not going, because even though I knew damn well the guy wasn't going to march down and grab me out of the tent, he could get me in trouble by mentioning me leering at him earlier. Dad had surprised me for being so open-minded about Captain York being gay, but what about me?

So I waited until the light went out in the camper, and I tiptoed by, hearing giggling that suggested the camper would be rocking real soon. I carried a flashlight for the short trek up to Captain York's campsite, because without it you could break your neck on the pitch black dirt road.

Up the incline I went, shining my flashlight on the little posts by the road that indicated the site numbers, and there it was, 55, right at the crest of the hill. Not a great site because it wasn't near the water, but it was pretty secluded, meaning you couldn't really see your neighboring campers through the trees between the sites.

Captain York didn't have a camper, but he had a big tent, one you could stand up in and had a screened porch in front. It was there that a lantern was glowing, revealing my host for the evening, who was sitting in a lawn chair.

I walked up the gravel driveway, filled with a mixture of fear and excitement as I passed the campfire burning down to embers. I wanted to be with the guy, because his body was amazing, but I didn't want to do what he wanted me to. I wasn't ready for that.

"Glad you could make it," Captain York said from the other side of the screen. "Come on in Derek."

I pulled the zipper of the tent up and stepped inside, and after closing it back up turned to face my father's colleague. At first I thought he was naked but then saw he had boxer shorts on, and since it was warm and it was dark, nobody would ever know.

"Care for a beer, Derek?" he asked, and after I got over the shock I accepted the offer, grabbing it even if it was a Utica Club, a nasty local brew.

"So you're Ed Ryan's boy?" Captain York said with a chuckle. "Small world. Didn't figure he would have a gay son, and I'm guessing he doesn't know."

"He knows," I mumbled after taking a sip from the can. "About you."

"I'm not surprised," Captain York said calmly. "It's common knowledge. I mean, I don't broadcast it, but I don't deny it. Hopefully you'll be that way someday too. It's not a disease or even a choice. It's the way we are. Take your clothes off, son."

"Here?" I asked, because even though it was dark out, the site was well off the road and nobody was likely to be wandering around out there anyway, I was still shy.

"Just you and me," he explained, and as I fidgeted he reminded me that there wasn't anything I had that he hadn't seen before.

"I was putting you down before down at the bathhouse, but that was just me showing you your place. You've got a nice body. You're built just the way I like my guys," Captain Ryan said, and after I got naked he motioned me close to him.

"Do not cum," he said sternly as he wrapped his arm around my hip and pulled me close with his left hand while grabbing my limp dick with his right, pulling and stretching it as he spoke. "If you cum I will get mad, and you don't want that. If you feel like you're about to cum, tell me or tap me on my shoulder."

That said, he leaned over in his chair and took all of my cock in his mouth, sucking hard and fast, and ten seconds later I was tapping away on that muscular shoulder like a woodpecker. After a minute or so of these repeated interruptions he got annoyed and took me outside the screen enclosure.

"Let's take the edge off, Derek," my father's friend said, and then Captain York was stooping down behind me, nibbling on my neck while reaching around and stroking my dick hard, looking down at what he was holding. "I remember how you cum, so I'll just stand back here and - whoa!"